


Blizzard

by MsTracySamanthaLord



Category: Dr. Quinn Medicine Woman
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-25
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:46:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24377467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsTracySamanthaLord/pseuds/MsTracySamanthaLord
Summary: One night between Dr. Mike and Sully sometime during her first year in Colorado.
Relationships: Michaela Quinn/Byron Sully
Comments: 5
Kudos: 30





	Blizzard

As soon as she saw the sky darken, Michaela knew she had made a mistake. She was a mile or so from the homestead at that point, and for a moment, she considered heading back to town where the children were. But before she could maneuver the horse and cart back the way they had come, the first snowflakes had already begun to fall. And they were falling fast and thick. 

For weeks, the weather had been balmy and fair, unusual for February, but everyone had been enjoying the respite from winter. There had even been a picnic planned for tomorrow, which is why the children had remained in town. Michaela supposed it served her right for letting her guard down in regards to mother nature. 

She had planned to use the afternoon to brew some of her more unpleasantly scented medicines and teas, the ones that caused Brian to shout “pee-yew!” each time the battered old kettle came out of the cupboard. 

By the time she arrived at the homestead, secured the horse and cart in the barn and built herself a roaring fire, the snow was falling steadily outside. It looked like she was trapped until it let up. At least the children were safe with Miss Abigail, at the school, all of them together. Michaela wasn’t worried about herself – she had enough wood and food to wait out a decent sized storm. 

With the windows and doors secured, Michaela began the kettle for tea. It would be too stuffy to try and brew the remedies that had brought her here in the first place, but a pot of a chamomile would do her good. 

She had settled in with her cup of tea, her shoes and coat set aside, her socked feet curled up beneath her in the chair, when there was a knock at the door. 

The man outside was dusted in snow, his deerskin tunic nearly soaked through. 

“Sully!” She stepped aside to let him in. 

“Wanted to make sure you were all right,” he said, taking a single step inside, but going no further. Michaela held the door open, waiting for Wolf, but Sully’s shadow was nowhere to be seen. “He’s with the children,” Sully said. 

“I hope you didn’t come all this way in the snow for me,” Michaela said, suddenly aware of the quiet and emptiness of the cabin. 

“Wasn’t sure you’d have enough wood,” he said, looking over at the fire. “But I see you’re well equipped for the storm.” He turned to go. 

“You’re not going back out there,” Michaela commanded, even though she had meant it as a question. Sully glanced back at her, his eyebrows raised. She cleared her throat, knowing he wasn’t a man fond of being told what to do. “The snow’s coming down fast.” 

Looking over his shoulder, Michaela knew she was right and that he would agree. The drifts were nearly as high as her knees. 

But Sully didn’t budge. 

“I can stay in the barn,” he said. “Don’t want to inconvenience you.”

“Don’t be silly,” Michaela said, closing the door and taking his arm. “There’s no fire in the barn.” She went to the stove. “And no tea, either.”

“Not much for tea,” he said, but he came closer to the warmth of the flames. 

“I’ve got hot cocoa,” Michaela said, expecting him to refuse that as well. 

“I’d like that,” he said, and smiled. Those smiles of his, they were rare, but beautiful. His eyes were so blue, and they swept her body, stopping at her throat. Suddenly the two buttons she had undone after removing her coat had her feeling dangerously exposed. Even though she was close to the fire, Michaela knew the heat she felt was from something else.

“Here,” she said, handing him a cup of cocoa. He took the mug with both hands, his fingers brushing against hers. Michaela hoped the firelight hid her blush. 

She sat back in her chair, but with her feet on the floor this time, her back straight. Sully knelt in front of the fire, his deerskin marked with melting snow. Michaela noticed that the leather fit him well, Michaela noticed, not that she hadn’t noticed before. But somehow now, alone in the cabin, with his attention on the fire and the cocoa, she found herself noticing far more. Like how it molded to his thighs, the muscles there tight and strong. Everything about him was sturdy, powerful. Still he was gentle. Kind. 

His hair had begun to dry and Michaela’s fingers itched to touch the braid behind his ear. She had found herself thinking of that braid each time she tucked her own hair back. Would it feel as soft? Men’s hair had never really interested her, she thought. Unless it was Sully’s. 

He was the exception to many things, she was beginning to realize. Michaela had treated enough fallen women to know the injurious inclinations of men during sex and until recently, that had been enough to curb any desires of that nature. But Sully was nothing like the men that visited Myra and the other girls. Those men, and the men in town, who looked at her like she was steak and they were wolves. And he wasn’t anything like the men that Michaela had known back in Boston. The ones, who once they learned she was a doctor, stared at her as if she was a dog walking on its hind legs. No. Sully looked at her like she was a person. He was kind and gentle, thoughtful and tenderhearted. Handsome. 

If she admitted to herself that his hair held her fascination, then she should also acknowledge that the rest of him was a subject of interest as well. He was the first man she wished to examine. In a completely non-medical manner. 

Michaela knew she should be shocked by her own thoughts. That they were entirely inappropriate for someone in her situation. But, she couldn’t help remembering Sully’s bare chest when they joined together to rescue Cloud Dancing. The way his skin, bronzed by the sun, looked smooth and fine. His muscles stretching and pulling like some beautiful, perfect machine that only God could have made. 

If she were back in Boston, she would have dismissed these thoughts immediately. She had never before found herself with the type of desire she felt for Sully. Her fiancé, David, had invoked feelings of love and acceptance, of security. And although Michaela felt safe with Sully, she did not feel safe with herself around him. She found that she didn’t mind. In fact, it gave her a thrill. 

She had come to Colorado, hadn’t she? Traveled all the way to a town she had never before set eyes on, to help people who barely respected her as a woman, let alone a doctor. And she had felt the same fear, the same thrill, when she boarded the train taking her away from her family; from the only world she had ever known. 

Michaela didn’t believe in fate. But she didn’t believe in coincidence either. Whatever was happening right now was somewhere in between. They were alone. In a blizzard. Tucked away from the town, from the world. They could be anyone out here. 

For the first time in a long while, Michaela felt impatient. Anxious. She was a woman, wasn’t she? And not just that, she was a doctor too. She had braved the stares and disappointment of most everyone around her to pursue her dreams. Ignored what the world told her she should and should not do. So why did she continue to listen to those outdated ideas of respectability? She knew all about the female body. All about the male body, as well. And she knew, from books and lectures and gossip shared between women all about what happened when those two kinds of bodies joined together. 

Every inch of her skin was hot now, hot and tight and tingling. Sully was still in front of the fire, completely oblivious to the decisions being made in her head. Michaela remembered each time that Sully had touched her, the feel of his fingers burning through the cumbersome layers of clothing as he helped her from her horse, or guided her along the street. She wanted to feel him and she wanted him to feel her. 

Her tea gone, Michaela got up from the chair and moved closer to the fire. If Sully noticed, he made no indication of her approach. Everything inside her trembled, but still, she reached out and pushed back a lock of hair that had fallen against his cheek. He started, and looked up at her. Her hand stayed hovering in the air next to his face. She could see it shaking. 

“Dr. Mike-,” he said, looking at her face and then at her hand. He stood. “Michaela.”

The sound of her name, her given name on his lips was more than she could bear and she stepped forward. He did not move. 

“Do you trust me?” she asked him. 

“Of course,” he said, a line appearing between his eyes, the question unsaid. 

“I want to be with you, Sully,” she said. 

The silence that came after was long and terrible. All the heat in Michaela’s face fled, her skin growing ice cold. She shivered. 

“I’m sorry,” she said, turning away, but his hands gripped her arms. 

“You never need apologize. I just…I don’t want to make promises,” Sully said, his eyes not on her, but at the floor. “Promises I can’t keep.”

“I’m not asking for promises,” Michaela said, her mouth dry. “Just one night.”

His fingers tightened around her arms. 

“Sully,” she said. “Sully, I-.”

But it wasn’t a sentence that was meant to be finished. Without another word, Sully pulled her against him, his lips claiming hers. His mouth was hot and wet and she sighed against it. His tongue met hers and she could taste winter and Colorado, her knees buckling at the way she wanted him. But there was nowhere to fall. Her body leaned into his and he absorbed the weight like she was already a part of him. 

His mouth left hers for a moment. Michaela hated the distance he put between them, his arms holding her away from his body. His eyes, so blue and so bright captured hers. He was breathing heavily, his pupils dilated. 

“No promises,” he said, searching her face. 

Tenderness twisted at her heart. Michaela knew he wasn’t ready to love someone. His mourning was deep and far from being healed. And she knew that her life, with the children and her practice, had no room for the kind of promises he couldn’t make. She placed a hand on his cheek, much like she had done moments ago, her fingers brushing against the braid behind his ear, the one that had captured her attention. It wasn’t time for it to come off. 

“No promises,” she said. 

Michaela expected him to kiss her again, but he didn’t. He didn’t take her in his arms, but he released her instead, his hand moving to the braid resting on her shoulder. With a tug he released it from its tie. Without a second thought, she leaned forward wantonly. His fingers, calloused and hot, traced her clavicle, dipping into the soft indent at the base of her throat. They then continued their journey, this time down and Michaela sucked in a breath as they found the still-clasped buttons against her breastbone. But instead of unhooking them, Sully placed his other hand beneath her chin, his palm flush against the side of her throat and tilted her head upwards so her lips could meet his mouth once again. 

Michaela’s own hands were fisted in his still-damp deerskin tunic. This kiss was slow and searching. Sully’s fingers rested against her breastbone, and she was sure he must feel the way her heart pounded. Still, he did not touch the remaining buttons on her shirt. 

The small room was hot, but Michaela’s skin grew goose bumps at Sully’s kisses. Her fingers relaxed their grip on his sleeves, drifting downward. The rough rasp of his unshaven cheek against hers gave her a thrill, as did the feel of leather against her palm. He was the wilderness incarnate, his mouth hard and wet against hers. 

Her fingers slipped beneath the bottom of his shirt, finding bare flesh. His stomach. Hipbone. Smooth and hot. This time, he was the one who shivered. Pulling away from her, his hands reached up and around for the collar of his heavy tunic. His eyes watched her. 

Michaela’s hands were still outstretched, waiting, and she nodded when he looked at her, all those questions unasked. With a single, graceful gesture, the deerskin garment was pulled from his body and discarded on the floor. And there he was, bare chested in the firelight, looking more beautiful, more perfect, than Michaela had ever imagined a man could look. If there had been any doubts, they were gone, banished into the darkness of the night. 

His shoulders were broad, his hips narrow. Michaela imagined that she could stare at him forever and still want more. There came the tiniest hint of regret, not for what they were going to do, but for the fact that it could go no further then this night. 

As if he could hear her thoughts, Sully stepped forward, his naked chest coming in contact with her still outstretched hands. At the feel of his skin, smooth and firm, beneath her palms, she banished all thoughts from her mind. All but one.  
She wanted him. 

This time she kissed him, reaching up, her hands sliding around his bare neck, her fingers caught in his hair. It was soft, but her kiss was not. Michaela had never felt this way, never felt this urgency, this intensity. 

And when Sully’s hands reached for her, they did not linger. His fingers moved deftly down her shirt, releasing buttons as they went. Michaela gripped his shoulders, his mouth moving across her jawline to her throat. The feel of his tongue against the tender spot behind her ear made her knees shudder. Sully wrapped his arm across her back, the feel of his naked skin burning through her corset. 

There were too many layers, too many articles of clothing between them. Michaela’s hands were impatient as she pulled at the laces that confined her. Sully stopped her, placing a gentle kiss on her lips before kneeling down in front of her. Flames lit his tanned skin, his eyebrows furrowing as he concentrated on untangling the mess she had created in her haste. Michaela took such pleasure in watching him work; in the focus and care he took as he slid the laces from their hooks. The corset was nothing like she would have worn in Boston, but she was eager to have it removed. Finally she was free, her skin cool and naked in the light of the fire. Her hands immediately went to her breasts, nervousness coming over her. 

But Sully was looking straight ahead, his hands on her hips. Gently, slowly, he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her stomach. He paused, his hand brushing against her bare skin. Looking up at her, Michaela knew what he was asking. 

“We’re safe,” she said, knowing her own body. 

There it was, that smile, but now, as he stood, his naked chest inches from her barely covered breasts, there was a hint of something new. Of something wild and sinful and delicious. He placed his hands over hers, and without taking his eyes off of her face, gently revealed the part of her that she had been hiding. Without thinking, Michaela leaned forward, shyness urging her to hide. But the movement pressed her flush against Sully and this time, there was nothing between them. His skin against hers felt entirely new. 

He sucked in a breath, his eyes closing, his hands gripping hers. She had never had a man react to her this way and the intensity on his face, the way his jaw clenched, made her bold. She had wanted to be touched, hadn’t she? 

Michaela guided his hands back to her breasts. She had never thought much of them before. They were small and generally easy to ignore, or overlook. But now, with Sully’s palms against them, his warm skin against her burning skin, she knew she would never think of them the same again. He cupped them, drawing a thumb over the tip, small and pert and she shuddered. Then he lowered his head and put his mouth, his hot, wet, wonderful mouth on them. Michaela was sure she would faint. The room spun around her, every inch of her skin burning and crackling like the fire they stood in front of. 

Her fingernails dug into his arms and she let out a sigh that was half a moan as his teeth scraped ever so gently against her sensitive skin, his tongue drawing endless circles there. Without pausing, his hands slid down the slope of her hips, dipping beneath the waistband of her skirt. Those fingers, those long calloused, perfect fingers spread wide as they curved around her backside. It was then that he lifted his head, his eyes heavy and dark, and took her mouth again. 

Michaela was blinded by the desire blazing through her body. A dull ache began to settle in her chest, in her breasts and now between her legs. She felt hot all over, but empty, her body searching for fulfillment. She thought she might faint if he didn’t touch her where she needed to be touched. 

She pressed a kiss to Sully’s bare shoulder, her moan muffled against his skin as he pulled her closer, his hands still cupping her, her body flush against his. She could feel him, could feel every inch of him, even the parts still clad in deerskin. 

“Sully-,” she said, barely able to control herself, her fingers sliding down to the knot at his waist. 

But he stilled her hand. 

“First,” he murmured, once again kneeling in front of her. His hands found the tie holding her skirt to her hips and with a gentle tug had undone it. The fabric pooled at her feet, followed quickly by the rest of her undergarments. She was naked. Naked in front of a fire, in front of a man, while a storm raged outside. 

But Michaela felt nothing but need coursing through her. Her fingers smoothed back his hair and he caught her hand, placing a kiss against her palm. Then he kissed her. In a place she had never been kissed before. 

She became mercury, shimmering and smooth. She turned to liquid in Sully’s hands as his hands held her hips and he used his tongue to separate her from body. A deep, heavy pleasure built inside of her, rolling like a storm cloud, her release hitting like a lightening bolt. She might have fallen if Sully’s arms hadn’t been there. He held her close, pushing her unbound hair from her face, placing kisses across her nose and cheeks. 

Michaela was in his lap, bones gone from her body. And when he kissed her, when his lips found hers, tasting of earth and fire, she felt that heavy sensation begin to rise in her again. This time, when her hands went to the waist of his pants, he did not move them away. 

She had seen men before, but she had never seen a man like this. Michaela was surprised at the softness, and of the way Sully blushed. He was so handsome, so glorious. Beautiful. His lip was caught between his teeth as she touched him, his eyes closed. Leaning back, his whole throat was exposed to her, and she could see each swallow, his Adam’s apple lifting and falling. Nothing had ever been so perfect. So right. Michaela pressed a kiss to his neck, tasting the sweat and the salt. 

Without warning, Michaela found herself on her back, the rug rough against her skin, Sully’s body warm atop her own. The press of his weight against her was intoxicating, and she felt for a moment that he could not get close enough. Then he stilled, and she looked up at him, into those blue eyes. She could feel him against her, the most intimate part of her. There was no hesitation in her nod. 

He was slow and gentle, his fingers bringing her pleasure before he shifted and moved against her. Moved into her. Michaela could hear Sully’s breath catch, the warmth of his mouth next to her ear. His groan vibrated through her and she couldn’t help but smile. Then he began to move and there was nothing she could think of but the feel of his body around her and inside of her. 

His hips pressed against her own, and she was open and free. His rhythm was like a heartbeat, a pulse the two of them made together. Bending his head, he kissed her everywhere he could reach, as her hands slid down his back, pulling him closer, deeper. Michaela could hear herself moaning beneath him. But she could hear him too, his breath rough as he pushed his body into hers over and over again, his movements becoming frantic. Fisting her hands in the rug beneath them, Michaela held on, feeling as if she might explode, might fly apart into a million tiny pieces. She closed her eyes, feeling the storm coming again, thunder rolling through until finally lightning hit, tearing a gasp of joy and pleasure from her throat. 

Sully gasped as well, his hips thrusting against hers hard, his entire body trembling with his release. His arms shook as he held himself above her until she pulled him down to kiss him. She wanted the weight of him against her. Wanted to savor it for as long as she could. 

Afterwards, when he had taken her in his arms and carried her to bed, Michaela lay there knowing that they’d never speak of this night. She also knew that when she woke, no matter the weather outside, Sully would be gone. No promises, they had said. So she pressed her body against his, his form lean and strong along her back, and tried to capture this moment, tried to memorize it. Outside it was cold and icy, but inside Michaela was warmer than she had ever been before.


End file.
